


Even the Blackest Nights Have Stars

by Meatball42



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce, PIERCE Tamora - Works
Genre: Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Magic, Nightmares, Unmagic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:45:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandry’s nightmares are getting worse, and she’s willing to do anything to stop them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even the Blackest Nights Have Stars

Sandry gasps awake, hand already scrabbling on her bedside table for her light-crystal. She finds it and holds it in front of her face, letting its constant, pale glow calm her from her nightmare.

It was another about the Unmagic. She doesn’t remember what happened exactly, but she remembers the terrifying sensation of it crawling up her body.

Sandry shivers and puts the thought out of her mind. “Just a dream,” she whispers, staring at the crystal. “Just a- no!”

The sticky, cool nothingness is on her toes, crawling up her even faster than the Unmagic she’d spun. She’s breathing heavily, trying not to panic, knocking things off her desk to find her spindle. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she whimpers. She finds the spindle and clutches it in the hand not holding her crystal. She reaches for her magic-

“No! No no no!” It’s not there. Her magic is gone! The Unmagic laughs as she screams, and it climbs over her hand, over the crystal, and then everything is dark.

 

Sandry gasps awake, already sitting straight up in bed. Her frightened sounds fill her bedchamber and she scrambles out of bed, away from the ghost of the Unmagic.

Sandry lights the lamp her servants leave ready next to her bed and spends the next several minutes thoroughly checking her room for Unmagic. When she finally finds nothing, she sits on the bed with a sigh.

“This has gone on far too long,” she decides. She stares at her trusted crystal, shot through with roots and magic, and sighs. “They said it would go away naturally, but it hasn’t. I can’t let this fear rule my life anymore. Tomorrow I’ll go to the mind-healers.”

Taking a deep breath, she blows out the lamp, gets back under the covers, and holds her crystal to her chest, trying not to think about the darkness encroaching just beyond her vision.

...

“Why would you want a thing like that?”

“I need help,” Sandry appeals. “Lark, please.”

“Let those foolish Water Temple bumblers toss things around inside your mind to ‘fix’ you, certainly not!” Sandry’s former guardian sits down at the dinner table, a hand over her heart. She only adopts Rosethorn’s usual manner of speech when she’s very worried, and Sandry sighs, knowing it won’t be easy to convince her.

“Sandry,” Lark says more calmly, “why do you need this? Has something happened?”

Sandry sits down beside her. “I keep dreaming about it. The Unmagic.” She says the last in a quieter voice, as thought saying its name might summon it.

Lark wraps a gentle arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. But you know that we have remedies for dreaming. Herbs, spells, amulets. There’s no need for something so drastic as mind-healing.”

“I’ve tried all those things, Lark, they don’t work,” Sandry tells her, wringing her hands. “And I’m so afraid… I’ve taken to keeping a lamp on when I go to sleep!”

“Sandry, you are one of the strongest people I know,” Lark says firmly. “We will find a way to help you, I know we will. But you cannot put yourself at risk from the mind-healers, you know what can happen if something goes wrong?”

“Yes, I know.” Sandry has seen the child-minded people who wake up when a mind-healing goes awry. They’re never fit for work again, some cannot even speak.

“You have people counting on you, Sandry,” Lark tells her. “I know it’s difficult, but you have to be strong for them.”

“You’ll help me?” Sandry asks shakily, now that the prospect of going back to the palace and her nightmares is becoming real.

Lark hugs Sandry tightly as a mother would, and Sandry starts to feel better. “I promise,” she whispers, and Sandry believes her.


End file.
